


If things were different.

by LunarTears



Category: Priest - Fandom, 七爷, 七爷 | Qī Yé - priest
Genre: #Pipisecretsanta2019, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Spoilers for the whole book ESPECIALLY extra chapter 4 VN VERSION, kinda??, please take note of that last one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21932242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarTears/pseuds/LunarTears
Summary: All Wuxi sees is white.
Relationships: Jing Beiyuan/Wu Xi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	If things were different.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cecentre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecentre/gifts).



> For Cece. 
> 
> Happy Holidays!! Wishing you the best and only the happiest days !!!

When Wuxi thinks, his thoughts hit him like lightning.

It’s sudden and impulsive. It makes him jump into action the way it makes him jump into conclusions or makes his mouth open with words he never means. It’s  _ honesty _ some would say, it’s  _ stupidity _ others would say. Wuxi himself doesn’t really know what to call it, nor does he care to label it, but all he knows is that his thoughts and actions are birthed from his want of something.

Or someone. Like that time he rushed into war to save Beiyuan.

Or the time he just suddenly up and decided that he’ll take Beiyuan home to South Xinjiang.

It's how he always does it: He gets a thought and decides on what to do, he won't stop pushing through until he sees it to the very end.

When Wuxi thinks, his thoughts hit him like lightning.

So when this one—this one certain train of thought plagues him like vines slowly creeping up at him—with thorns puncturing him, capturing him in a place where he can’t go forward nor move back, only to stay in one place filled with wounds he doesn’t know where or when it started—he finds himself at lost on what to do. Blanking out on ideas about how to act.

It’s as though the vines had always been there this whole time and all it took was for  _ that _ to happen to make him realise.

Not knowing what to do, Wuxi finds himself suppressing all these thoughts, feelings, and emotions that surge through him. 

It feels foreign. Peculiar. 

And maybe it is. Bai Wuchang is a whole other entity—a whole other  _ existence _ — after all. It's a past that he had never known about, never had any idea that it actually existed. He had bits and pieces of those memories in a form of dreams—nightmares, but  _ actually _ knowing the entire thing—all the events that had transpired and how it came to be—is so different from having it come as a nightmare. It makes it feel so real.

And the fact that it was—at a certain time and place—once a reality, it only makes Wuxi feel hurt, among all else.

But even then, even if he’s hurting, it’s not thoughts  _ completely _ about himself that he’s being plagued by. It’s not thoughts about him getting hurt that he’s bothered about. He could care less if he’s hurt— _ okay, maybe not exactly _ —but he could care less about himself in comparison to Jing Beiyuan getting, or even the idea of it, hurt.

Ever since that dream-like happenstance, there hasn’t been a night where he can completely sleep peacefully. He’s always hugging Jing Beiyuan close, tighter than he does usually, as he tries to suppress the nagging feelings or thoughts in his mind that Beiyuan will leave him once he finds out the truth.

The scared, anxious, guilt-filled voice in the back of his head saying,  _ “You’re the reason why he’s been suffering for this long.” _

The voice of the ghost of Bai Wuchang whispers in his ears. It whispers the undeniable and unchangeable truth that he’s Bai Wuchang.

That he’s the one who ruined Beiyuan’s life—all six of it.

And perhaps this seventh one too, despite everything that has happened up until now.

_ Who am I _ , Wuxi thinks, _ to compete with his love for someone that spanned for six—and maybe even seven—lives? _

_ Does he even have a right to stand by Beiyuan’s side? To see him smile? _

There’s obviously a difference, after all, between someone who has done wrong in the past that doesn’t remember even a gist of it, and someone who remembers everything.

A nagging voice in Wuxi’s mind, probably his voice from when he was still Bai Wuchang, is saying that he doesn’t deserve Jing Qi. That he’s just going to end up hurting Jing Qi all over again.

He tries to shut the nagging voice down, but deep inside, he knows the reasoning runs deep. How can he live, after all, after knowing that he’s the one who caused the person he loved the most the anguish and hurt he went through? He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to accept it.

He’s not able to accept it yet he also can’t bring himself to let go of Beiyuan. Just the mere thought of letting Beiyuan go—whether or not it’s to return to  _ his _ side— is being rejected by every fibre of Wuxi’s being. He can’t do that, not when Beiyuan is finally happy.

Beiyuan being happy is the only thing that matters. It should be the only thing that matters.

Which is most likely why this is even plaguing Wuxi’s thoughts like a fly he can’t kill— _ what if _ Beiyuan finds out? It’s not that Wuxi plans to hide this knowledge from Beiyuan forever. And even if he did, Beiyuan is smart—sooner or later he’d find out that Wuxi’s hiding something from him and would demand answers, and Wuxi being Wuxi, won’t be able to deny an answer for him or lie at his face.

_ Would...Beiyuan still remain happy by my side even if I’m the person he despises the most? _ Wuxi wonders.

As Wuxi turns to his side, he sees Beiyuan right by him. Despite his back facing him, Beiyuan emits warmth that Wuxi only found with him. The warmth that momentarily fills Wuxi’s chest gets replaced by anxiety, guilt, and coldness that he, in his current life, doesn’t remember having.

( _ “Don’t let him face away from you again,”  _ A desperate voice in Wuxi’s mind says,  _ “You would never want to experience your existence being rejected by the one you love _ — _ not again.” _ )

He wraps an arm around Beiyuan, snuggling closer to his side—

( _ “Closer, closer,” _ A voice in Wuxi’s mind chants,  _ “Don’t even let any air pass through.” It says, “Even the tiniest of air can become a dangerous force that can take him away from you.” _

Wuxi doesn’t want to listen yet his body does. He seems to feel a type of coldness that only Beiyuan can warm up. 

Despite this, the voice continues on: _ “If you don’t hold him now, you’ll regret it forever.” _

Wuxi hugs Beiyuan impossibly tighter.)

—and buries his face into the other’s hair.

All Wuxi sees is white.

#

Wuxi should’ve known that confrontation would come sooner than later, especially considering the level of observation and intellect that Jing Beiyuan has. It’s something he does admire with Beiyuan, but with this current predicament, he had hoped that he’s acting somewhat normal for Beiyuan to not notice.

But Beiyuan wouldn’t be Beiyuan if it were not for his sharp eyes and mind. In fact, it would’ve been strange if Beiyuan hadn't noticed or said anything at this point.

“Wuxi, how have you been feeling?” He says, almost nonchalantly, yet Wuxi knows this is just some type of formality, an opening to his inquiry. “You haven’t been acting like you usually do.”

Wuxi stays silent. He has nothing to say, after all, despite the number of days and nights he’s been plagued by thoughts, readying himself for confrontation.

But of course, with Beiyuan, nothing ever goes as expected—nor completely unexpected.

“Does it have anything to do with your nightmare the other night?” Beiyuan inquires, putting a hand on Wuxi’s shoulder and making him sit on the bed. “You’ve been...distant, of sorts. Like you’re thinking too much about something.”

Wuxi’s silent for a moment. After a while, “Is it that odd?”

Beiyuan hums, “Well, you’re usually an act first kind of person. Not exactly the type to think a lot before doing so.”

Wuxi frowns.

Beiyuan pinches his cheek, “Don’t frown,” He puts a finger in the middle of Wuxi’s eyebrows where his eyebrows had been pinched together, and playfully flicks Wuxi’s forehead, “You know what I mean.” He smiles slightly, retreating his hand.

Wuxi stares up at him, at that smile that constantly fills him with warmth, and he thinks about the memories—the one from the dream of sorts—where Beiyuan, with hair coloured like snow, cries and sleeps in front of a stone. In anguish.

And the times where Beiyuan would sleep by the same stone for years—just waiting to perish. All he had was apathy for his future, hurt that he has quietly gathered for  _ years  _ and resentment for himself and the world.

_ I caused that, didn’t I? _ Wuxi thinks, yet again.

He thinks about the moments in his memories where Beiyuan ignores his whole existence and how his heart ached to be noticed—to be forgiven.

Wuxi, yet again, wonders if he deserved Beiyuan in the first place.

Wuxi’s face must’ve contorted into something—Wuxi doesn’t exactly know what kind of face he’s making right now—and Beiyuan is suddenly filled with worry.

“Wuxi—”

“Beiyuan.” Wuxi cuts him off. Wuxi doesn’t know what to say next. His mind is just running with thoughts. Statements, phrases, things he doesn’t know what to say—things he never thought he’d be saying.

Maybe Beiyuan is right.

Maybe he does speak before thinking because the next thing he knows is that his lips are moving and—

“You should go back to Da Qing.” He hears himself say, “Go back to Helian Yi’s side.”

And it’s an idiotic statement, Wuxi knows that the best. But it’s even more so when Wuxi is holding on to Jing Beiyuan’s clothes, grasping them tightly into a fist. Refusing to let go.

Beiyuan’s face goes from shock before contorting into something else—his lips tugging upwards on each side while his eyebrows furrow together in the middle.

Wuxi quickly decides he hates it.

“Don’t say that,” Beiyuan says.

Wuxi purses his lips, he finds himself speaking before he even thinks. 

“Don’t you hate it here?” He asks. He knows the answer to that already—he  _ knows _ that. He knows that Beiyuan could’ve left a long time ago if he wanted to. Wuxi knows the answer yet his heart and ears longs for a direct answer.

_Don’t you hate being with me?_ _Don’t you hate being with the one person who robbed you off of a happy ending you had always dreamt of since your first life?_ Goes unspoken.

“Why would I?” Beiyuan asks. Wuxi sees his eyes surveying him, picking him piece by piece—trying to figure him out.

It’s been quite a long time since Beiyuan did that—needed to do that.

Wuxi feels like he wants to vomit.

“I…”

Beiyuan tilts his head, telling him to continue.

“You would hate me if you knew,” Wuxi says, “It’s you who I don’t want to be hated the most by.”

Beiyuan laughs, “You say that and yet you tell me to go back to  _ that _ place.” Beiyuan rolls his eyes, “Tell me what made you say that.”

White hair fills Wuxi’s mind.

He takes a deep breath.

“It was my fault you suffered.”

Beiyuan’s eyes fill with worry.

“In that nightmare….I,” Wuxi starts to say, hesitating for a moment, “I was in the underworld—for a moment I thought I was dead, I even tried thinking of a different way to be reborn without drinking the meng-po tea—” He sighs, “But, instead, it seems like memories of my former self was given to me.”

Wuxi breathes deeply, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I was Bai Wuchang, Jing Qi.”

Wuxi waits. A second. Another. Jing Qi seemed to stare at him for a moment before laughing hard.

Wuxi’s dumbstruck. 

“And?” Jing Qi asks, a playful smile still on his face.

Wuxi lets a sound out—a sound to express his frustration and confusion. Does Jing Qi not get it? Surely that would be impossible right? Or maybe Jing Qi doesn’t have any memories from his past? Was that it?

“I accidentally reaped the wrong—”

“Yes, I know that,” Jing Qi crosses his arms to his chest, “Well not exactly—I’ve suspected it at the least, but what about it?”

Wuxi’s speechless.

“I long have known that, Wuxi,” He caresses the side of Wuxi’s face with a hand.

“What?” Wuxi says, surprised, “How?”

Jing Qi hums, “Remember the time you told me you dreamt that you saw me? With my hair white?” Wuxi nods, “I didn’t know it then, but the realisation did hit me when we began living together.”

“Do you…” Wuxi hesitates.

“Do I not mind?” Jing Qi asks. Wuxi nods. “I guess I did for a few seconds,” He hums, “But does it matter?” Jing Qi shrugs, “Bai Wuchang is Bai Wuchang and you’re you—you’re Wuxi.” He smiles.

Still being stubborn, Wuxi says, “You don’t deserve to be with someone for the rest of your life—this life—that you don’t completely like.” For the first time, he evades Jing Qi’s eyes.

Wuxi feels a finger on his chin, lifting his face up, making him look at Jing Qi.

“Who says I don’t—”

“What if things were different?” Wuxi cuts him off, “Have you never thought of the possibilities?” He says. It sounds so simple, yet Wuxi hears something in his voice, something about the gravel-like tone.

It sounds like desperation.

_ Desperation for what? _ He wonders.

A small voice on the back of his mind:  _ Desperation for comfort. For assurance. For Beiyuan to not leave your side. _

It takes Beiyuan a while to answer. He’s looking away from Wuxi, lips pursed as if figuring out how to phrase what he wants to say.

Figuring how to phrase his words to hurt Wuxi less, probably. 

Jing Qi opens his mouth and Wuxi is all of a sudden washed away by an overwhelming feeling of fear deep inside his gut that seemed to twist and turn his insides as he feels his throat close up, unable to speak nor even evoke a sound, not even a murmur.

“Maybe, if things were different,” is what Jing Qi says and Wuxi’s thoughts ran impossibly wild, beating himself up for even speaking about it—for even mentioning such a thing, implanting such an idea in Jing Qi’s mind—“I’ve thought about it—I’ve thought about the thousands and millions of possibilities that could have happened, how it could’ve ended.” Jing Qi breathes heavily, “I’ve mourned about the possibilities, the ideas how it could’ve played out. I have long cursed the person who was, supposedly, the reason for my suffering.” He looks at him. In Jing Qis eyes does Wuxi see honesty—it’s been somewhat normalised throughout the time they’ve started living together in Southern Xinjiang, but somehow, this time, it’s different.

Jing Qi—No,  _ Beiyuan _ takes hold of Wuxi’s hand, grasping it firmly in his. The warmth of Beiyuan’s hand travels through Wuxi like a drug, “And I realised that maybe, it was better that Bai Wuchang reaped the wrong soul—“ Wuxi frowns, “I realised a long time ago that if it wasn’t for that, I would’ve ended up being killed either way,” Beiyuan raises a hand to the side of Wuxi’s face, “My loyalty had always been with Helian Yi, and his was always with his responsibilities—with DaQing, with the throne.”

Wuxi purses his lips, “What about the other lifetimes?”

Beiyuan chuckles, “I had always known it was impossible ever since I saw Helian Yi drink the meng-po tea.” He caresses Wuxi’s cheek, “And right now, my loyalty is with you.”

“Aren’t you going to question mine?”

Beiyuan laughs, “Didn’t you say so yourself?” He grins, “That you wanted to find another way to be reborn without drinking meng-po tea—but I guess,” Beiyuan sighs, a smile on his face, “Even then, you’re too stubborn to give up. You wouldn’t give in on anything easily.”

A pause, “Is that bad?”

“We’re here aren’t we?” Beiyuan says, “It’s your stubbornness that can match my own that lead us up to this moment and because I’m also stubborn, I won’t let you make me leave that easily.” He tightens his hold on Wuxi’s hand, “I’m here to stay whether you like it or not.”

And Wuxi is, yet again, rendered speechless by Beiyuan. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s thinking about—he can’t quite focus on his thoughts—but all he knows is the explosive feelings of warmth in his chest.

Wuxi pulls Beiyuan by the arm until he’s hugging him. He hugs him tight. Wuxi would fight anything even god himself if he were to take Beiyuan away from him.

“I take it back,” He whispers into Beiyuan’s hair. All he sees is Beiyuan. “Don’t go—I won’t let you. Stay by my side until the very end. Even to the next. I will be an insect, a dog, a plant, or even a cat with the fate of my life resting upon your hand. I will keep waiting for you to keep coming back to my side—if you don’t, I’ll personally come and get you. If you wish to continue to mourn for him, I’ll stay beside you by the stone. I will never let you go.”

A moment, another.

Beiyuan slowly raises his arms to hug Wuxi back, “I don’t forget easily, so you better not regret what you said.”

Wuxi smiles, “Never.”

It suddenly feels like he’s been freed from the vines—the thoughts— that captured him. He suddenly doesn’t know why he ever got those thoughts in the first place.

The only way to move is forward. 

With Beiyuan.

#

They couldn’t be together in the past, however, they are here, together, in the present.

Wuxi doesn’t quite know what the future holds but he’d be damned if he’s going to forget Beiyuan.

#

The love I want only exists with you  
Otherwise, I wouldn’t be crying, laughing, and acting so silly like a child  
Being together is not easy, don’t say you want to break up so lightly  
I have come to rely on the love you give me  
The me who relies on you doesn’t need to be courageous  
Because of you, I believe that love exists

[ -魏奇奇『 愛,存在』 ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2NKgAUO0xG4)

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/eggyeulk)


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